


Stories from the Stark mansion

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:13:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Throwing seven more or less great personalities into one house and let them deal with each other can't be easy. It isn't. But in the end, it works surprisingly well. And maybe, just maybe, they'll even become friends. Or more, for Tony Stark knows next to nothing about friendship (especially when his friends aren't being paid by him) but he knows a lot about people. That's probably why he despises them so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning - Steve Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I haven't quite figured out how to use all this here (so forgive me for being a noob, please!)...also, my native tongue is not English, so forgive my mistakes (or even volunteer as a beta) that would be lovely...  
> So the idea of this is that I show the different characters and their life in the mansion of TONY STARK...every Avenger gets three chapters from their POV, how they got into the mansion and their experiences there and this is the first one about Steve Rogers/ Captain America. I hope you'll enjoy it and maybe tell me what you think about it xD. Have fun

_Steve Rogers_

 

Steve knew it was a bad idea to move in with what seemed to be the strangest people in this world that was already strange enough for him.

He was so desperately looking for a way to make it through this loud, bright, hostile world, he should really look for role models, not what appeared to be the worst case scenarios. Only just that he needed to get out of the S.H.I.E.L.D quarters that were assigned to him. Steve hated them. It wasn’t that they were bad, or cold, or even in the slightest comparable to the shelters he had used during the war. Back then, this would have been paradise. Big rooms with internal heating, probably gas or something, because there was no chimney or anything, no black smoke making him choke. Also, there was a toilet inside and always hot water. They even put some strange technical devices into it. Not that Steven knew how to use them, of course. He just hoped they wouldn’t explode. But those rooms were so grey and so foreign and they reminded him of a prison. __

_(Bucky in a prison. Fear. I hope he’s alive. He was. He isn’t.)_

 

He hated those things they gave him. He hated how people seemed to chose machines over other people, when he wandered around the building, he often saw people talking to things (he didn’t understand the most of their talking anymore) but almost never to people. And when they did, they always sounded hurried. It made Steve tired to think about it. Well, actually, everything made Steve tired. __

_(Peggy. We had a date. I wonder if she’s still alive. I wonder if she recognized me if she was. I wonder what would be worse, her being dead or her being over 90.)_

 

What selfish thoughts. He should hope for Peggy to have a nice life.

 

( _A husband, children. A small house. Did she think about me?)_

 

He should get accustomed to this new era. Should put all his efforts into learning to survive here. They told him the war was over and what felt like a few days ago, he would have done everything ( _died_ ) for that.

Wasn’t this better than death?

But all Steve could think of was that it wasn’t. That the New York he saw from his window was not the one he’d left behind. That everything moved and talked and lived around here, even though everything that had lived in Steve’s world was dead now. Dead and long gone. Missing it made Steve so tired he was mostly lying in his bed, wondering what year it would be when he opened them again. 1943? 2012? 2100?

 

Of course S.H.I.E.L.D was trying to bring him back to life. They explained to him all these strange devices, the history that should be future, everything, but Steve didn’t listen. He knew that he should, that technically, he was still in the army and should give his best for his country, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead he just hummed some of the jazz tunes Bucky had been so fond of in his head and watched those future people. He thought about how they gesticulated and talked and smiled and looked concerned and didn’t understand anything. It almost made him smile how much they thought what they were telling was important. Just that it wasn’t. Not to Steve. To him, the internet was nothing but a strange word and he didn’t know why, but the way this old guy in front of him (who technically was younger than Steve himself) talked about it, with almost loving affection in his eyes, made Steve chuckle.

For a moment, the guy looked startled and Steve put on an earnest face. “I’m sorry, sir. Would you mind going on?” The other man looked at him, shrugged and then continued his speech. Steve zoned out again.

 

They found the only thing Steve enjoyed was boxing. So they just let him. Yes, he destroyed a lot of punching bags, but nobody cared. They probably thought that once Steve had let off enough steam, he’d begin being like them. Not that he ever planned to. But it was a nice truce, until they dragged him into the Avengers.

But there was something about those guys. Steve didn’t like them; most of them were rude or just downright strange. But they, like him, weren’t normal people, some weren’t even human. They, if anybody, could understand him the tiniest bit, as they were outcast all the same. So when Tony Stark, this rude, self-absorbed genius, asked him whether he’d like to live with (even though his tone indicated that it wasn’t his idea) he agreed. Maybe being less lonely would make it easier. And if not, well then he could still lie in his bed there.


	2. Beginnings - Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark doesn't like people. But he likes pancakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the second chapter, it's about Tony Stark...I hope you'll enjoy it.  
> Special thanks go to BradyGirl_12 for commenting (thaaaaaaaank you very much!)  
> and to everybody who left kudos!  
> You are nice people xD...

_Tony Stark_

Tony knew it was a bad idea to invite all the Avengers. Especially knowing that once they had settled, they wouldn’t move out. But of course, that had been Pepper’s idea.

She had delivered him a speech about how homeless and lonely all of them were, having no home, no friends, no hope. She had talked about how Thor missed Asgard terribly, how misplaced Captain America felt in this new time, how Bruce Banner had, for the first time, a possibility to be accepted, not just as the professor, but also as the Hulk.

Actually, that had been the only point that really convinced Tony. He had dreamed of further investigations of the Hulk. Find out the reasons and ways the green rage monster that defied every law of nature, worked (and maybe use it for his own work, you never know!).

 

And the others, well Tony knew how to sacrifice. And even though neither Captain America nor, of all people, Thor looked particularly distressed to him, he could live with them.

Or better, he’d just deny them access to his labs and ignore them.

Black Widow and Hawkeye, well, he’d thought they would decline his offer. Why on earth should they want to live with people like him? But when they agreed, Tony realised that maybe, they weren’t that bad either.

Hawkeye would probably live in the attic and you didn’t notice the Black Widow either way. The first week after everybody moved in, he didn’t even know whether they actually _had_ moved in or whether they had changed their minds last minute.

Tony practically lived in hid labs far beneath the earth and the only people he talked to were Jarvis and occasionally, Pepper.

 

It was Jarvis who finally told him about Hawkeye, but only because he’d made pancakes.

Tony Stark, as ridiculous as it sounded, loved pancakes. He didn’t eat them often, of course. He had more important things to care about than what he was eating.

But he wasn’t making any progress with his current work (He had managed to get Jarvis to steal some skin samples from Doctor Banner’s room and was now desperately trying to deduce them) so he decided he might as well go upstairs and have some pancakes.

 

Once he left “his quarters”, being the cellar and the stairs, he didn’t recognize his own house. A long time ago (before the Avengers moved in), it had been one of the most beautiful (and probably the tidiest, because Tony never made a mess outside his labs) houses in New York. Probably it had been the prettiest house in all of the US.

Now it looked, quite frankly, as if something had exploded. Not just something, because Tony Stark had built in certain devices that could have survived an atomic bomb. Tony had made a fortune with weapons. Of course he’d known what they could do.

So this could be only explained with either a demigod like Thor or a Hulk. Tony had to blink when he realised that he hadn’t noticed anything down below.

Then he made his way to the kitchen. It looked the same, only that what seemed to have exploded was the fridge. There was flour everywhere. And there was an egg on the wall. (Jarvis cleaned the rooms every three hours, so this had to be quite recent).

 

From the living room, there was some noise, so Tony decided to go there. What he saw took his breath away for a moment. There was Steve Rogers, wearing something that must have been en vogue seventy years ago, because now it just looked terrible. He sat on the couch, only that he wasn’t really sitting; he was, judging from his straight back and the expression on his face, doing the sitting equivalent of saluting. His eyes were glued on the TV that showed some kind of soap opera that Tony didn’t recognise because he never watched this kind of stuff. In his hands, there was a forgotten pancake.

Then there was Thor, still wearing his stupid red cape, loudly talking with Hawkeye, one hand petting Mjolnir that (who? Had Mjolnir a personality?) was lying in his lap. The other hand was gesticulating wildly, while the pancake it was holding was dripping syrup on the floor.

Hawkeye on the other hand was covered in flour, half talking with Thor and half watching TV. In his lap was Black Widow’s head, she was lying there sleeping, still wearing her costume. Only Bruce Banner seemed to be missing.

For a moment Tony stood there, unnoticed, just taking in this strange group of people, then Thor noticed him and waved wildly.

 

“It is good to see you, man of iron!” He beamed. For a moment, everybody looked at him. Tony opened his mouth but couldn’t think of a good reply. This was a first. He was Tony Stark for heaven’s sake, he would outlive god to have the last word.

So he just smiled and said “Jarvis told me something about pancakes?” Now it was Hawkeye’s turn to smile and Tony couldn’t help but notice the pride in there.

 

“Yes, want one?” and with that, he offered Tony a plate. Then he seemed to remember something and smiled sheepishly. “And Tony?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Sorry about your kitchen.”

 

Tony smiled. “No problem. Jarvis will clean it up. But how the hell did this happen while doing pancakes?”

 

Hawkeye looked relieved. “Well, Thor was a bit uh, overenthusiastic about _Midgardian feast preparations_ , to say the least.” He chuckled at that thought while Thor now had the grace to look down with what he thought to be an apologetic smile.

 

“I was sparring with the mighty machine that united the milk and the flour for its roaring reminded me of the Bilgesnipe.” He admitted guiltily.

 

“What he’s trying to say” Hawkeye intervened “is that you need to get a new mixer, the old one got smashed by Mjolnir.” Tony nodded, wondering what was stranger, the fact that Thor had fought with his mixer or the casual tone of Hawkeye as he told him.

 

“No problem, I’ll order a new one.” Then he stood there and didn’t know what to do. This was his own house, so he shouldn’t feel uncomfortable here, but he did. Everybody (except for Captain America) seemed so at home, sleeping, cooking, watching TV, while Tony had hid in his lab, used the small bathroom next door and gotten food from Pepper.

 

“Why don’t you sit down and watch TV with us?” Hawkeye asked. Tony shrugged and then sat down next to Thor.

 

“What are you watching?”

 

“It’s an old series, Freaks and Geeks. Doesn’t exist anymore, but we wanted to show Cap the joys and perils of high school in the eighties. We tried Glee, that’s more modern, but he seemed to hate the music and I doubt he understood the plot. I mean, it can be quite difficult sometimes.”

 

Tony nodded as if he had a clue what Hawkeye talked about. He knew that Glee was a TV show about high school kids because he once had a short _encounter_ with one of the main actors. She’d been a nice girl, or so Tony thought, because he didn’t remember anything bad about her. Then again, he didn’t remember anything at all. So he just shrugged again and turned to Captain America.

 

“So Captain, how do you like it?”

 

Captain America looked at him, startled. Actually, he almost looked frightened for a second.

 

“It’s fine, Mr Stark.” Then he just continued watching TV.

 

“Don’t call me Mr Stark! I’m at home for fuck’s sake! Just call me Tony.” Tony said with a smile.

 

Captain America flinched at that but didn’t say anything.

After that, Tony watched the series. It was kind of nice, but of course all the people were boring, having their teenage problems with growing up, so Tony listened with fascination as Thor commented everything. Childhood in Asgard appeared to be quite different, as it seemed to be just fighting and feasting. It was funny to listen to Thor pitying the characters from the TV for their food. Apparently, in Asgard a meal was only considered a success if there were barrels of wine and meat.

Nevertheless, Thor seemed to be fond of the pancakes, as he was eating at least thirty of them. But Hawkeye was prepared for that, as always brought new pancakes from the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think, please?


End file.
